


happenstance

by leedeeloo



Category: TWRP | Tupper Ware Remix Party (Band)
Genre: Gen, Origin Story, built entirely on the basis of headcanons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-18
Updated: 2017-01-18
Packaged: 2018-09-18 11:21:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9382298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leedeeloo/pseuds/leedeeloo
Summary: A Phobos origin story, essentially explaining how the band all came together.





	

He had been shoved into a bunker. Shoved up into one; it was an above ground one carved out in the bottom of a foothill on the surface. He knew, in the back of his head why he wasn’t put in one of the deep ground bunkers, that it was something that was just compounded and made worse through thick layers of dirt. Phobos didn’t know exactly what had happened, it was all so fast.

He had never been on the surface before. It was peasant work up there, not for someone in his standing. But, as he pushed open the heavy door to the surface, he wondered if that even mattered anymore. Things had gone too quiet, no signals of any kind coming through, the ominous rumbling from down below stilling. At least he had the novelty of a new landscape.

Didn’t take long to find someone, amazingly. He’d never seen anyone like that before. And they made noises he had never heard before. At him. When he spoke they didn’t seem to understand, also having never heard anything like him before.

Their hand (paw? appendage?) went up to their vest pocket, and pulled something out, a translator. A little glowing rectangle fitting into their palm. Phobos had seen the interface on the screen before, from planet-wide and inter-planet conferences, though this seemed like a simpler version. They held it out, closer to him, waiting for him to speak. Phobos wavered, unsure what to say for a second. He went for an introduction, his name and title, not sure how well this version of the translator would work, how long of a message it could understand. He stepped back while it chugged and gripped his cloak close around his body.

The translator apparently transcribed what was said to it before fully translating anything- they showed him the screen of it, and he read it over. It was actually what he said, apparently auto-correcting any missed information and got the point across. He was impressed that it had the correct alphabet.

He gave a quick yes, pressing his lips together and bringing them apart with a soft popping noise. He got a confused stare in return. More words he didn’t understand, and they slowly tilted their head down and then back up. Pointed at the screen, did the same motion with their head.  Phobos mimicked the motion, pressing his lips together again. That’s what it was, right? A quick way to confirm without saying anything. At least he hoped so.

They tapped a button and he saw another box on the screen fill with unfamiliar characters. They scrunched their face up, like Phobos’ name or title didn’t translate, and they were trying to figure out what part of the sentence was his name.

They hit something on the screen again, clearing all the text, and said something. Phobos didn’t like how this being sounded; maybe it was because the language was so unlike something he had ever heard, or maybe he just didn’t like their voice, but whatever it was, they were loud and annoying. He didn’t have to hear it for long though, because they translated whatever they said and were showing him the screen.

He just focused in on the word pirate. Something made his stomach tighten up, he didn’t actually read the message for a few seconds, just stared at it blankly. Finally he parsed through it. The sounds of their name were unusual, even though there were characters for them- Miooch, which probably wasn’t exactly correct. It was roughly the same as what Phobos said, name and title, though they added a question: What happened to him?

Phobos leaned back, tried to think of an answer. He really didn’t know what had happened. Everyone was very panicked, there were lots of sirens, no one else seemed to know what was going on and he only heard little snippets of speculation. He just knew something had gone wrong and he was put somewhere safe. There was an entry way back down, but he had been instructed not to use it; if no one had made contact with him for a few days, nothing long distance and no knocking, he was to go to the surface. Whatever was up here with the heat and light from the stars would be far safer than whatever was going on back in his home.

So he told Miooch he didn’t know. The only thing he was told was to hide in that hole and hope for the best.

He waited. Pulled his hood up and waited. It felt like the sun was starting to rise, but he wasn’t going to check and make sure. And this person- this _pirate_ had been staring at him. Not the way one would in a conversation, but in an uneasy way. These nervous little glances at Phobos’ face and hands and eyes. He was used to being stared at, not just because of his status, but his eyes too; no coloured iris, the veins barely visible, just circles of white in his face. But this was different. It wasn’t a stare of awe and admiration, it was that they’d never seen anyone like him before, it was this fear of the unknown that made them look.

There was an annoyed sigh from Miooch, and instead of saying anything, they were tapping at the screen of the translator. Typing, probably. A longer message to translate, an interrogation about his people and how Phobos abandoned-

No, that was silly. Phobos’ title didn’t even make sense to them, that was just a baseless worry.

The message was typed out and translated. He took the translator, squinting at the brightness of the screen. It was a long enough message that the grammar got wonky, he had to read bits over and over.

He, Phobos learned, was stuck. Miooch was on a ‘delivery’, but his ship broke down, forcing him to land here. He had been trying to fix it and even resorted to sending out distress signals, but nothing was going out, everything he tried to send out was being blocked by something else. Things had settled down, he got a signal out and a response, but who ever replied told him to meet him over this way. It sounded like there was something else they had to pick up in the area, but they didn’t say.

This didn’t add up. Or, it did, but Phobos didn’t like the answer he was getting. It was just too coincidental- whatever was being delivered, showing up just before absolute chaos started, everything going quiet at the same time. Whatever this god damned pirate had brought, it wreaked havoc. Phobos didn’t want to think about it, tried to squash the thought so far back in his mind it just fell out, but something told him no one was left under there.

He felt the edges of the translator dig into his fingers; he was squeezing it, his hand tense. Phobos shoved the translator back at Miooch, not intending to reply. At least not now, with this sudden rage in him. He had never been this angry before, maybe never angry at all. But as it happened, he was too furious to think about that, let alone keep chatting with someone that likely supplied the destruction of his whole world.

Phobos spun around briskly, planning to head back to his bunker. There were still rations in it, there was a map of where the other ones would be, maybe he would just risk it and open up the door back down. Hell, maybe the power and communications had just gone down, and his people were pounding on the bunker door, trying to get him to come out, worried sick.

There were footsteps behind him, crunching in the dirt, then a hand grabbing him by the shoulder, spinning him around. There were more of those awful talking noises, he was yelling. Fangs bared, arms waving, like he didn’t just ruin everything. Now he was avoiding looking Phobos in the eye, like it scared him. Phobos clenched his teeth together, turned to leave again.

Or, he would’ve left, if a ship hadn’t flown by. Too high to cause any wind, but low enough in the atmosphere to hear. Miooch stopped his yelling to watch it go by. That was probably his ride. He left Phobos to follow after it, as if he could catch up on foot. It was still going slow enough to do a U-turn, maybe he was planning on meeting it halfway.

For now, Phobos was left alone to sort through what was left.

* * *

 

It had been a few hours of Phobos clawing at the lock and pounding at the trapdoor leading back down. It had been locked from the other side as well as his, so he resorted to just trying to break the door down. He had checked the map there and discovered it was useless, showing the path underground from one chamber to the next, no mention of any above ground landmarks. No signals of any kind were coming through, there was no noise on the other side of the door, everything was just eerily quiet.

What else did he have though?

His hands were bright, blood close under the surface of his skin. He was just half-assedly kicking at the door, his foot thumping down methodically, mentally and physically exhausted. It was a token effort, he knew he’d never break through. Even if he did, he wouldn’t find anything. No one would open that door in the meantime, he was the only one left. He was in such a trance doing this that he didn’t notice the approaching voices.

There was a voice, weirdly familiar, and he looked to the door out not realizing he never shut it. It was that pirate and someone else. Miooch looked as surprised as Phobos felt, neither of them expecting what they heard. Phobos squinted into the outside light, only able to see a silhouette of them; bipedal, broad round shoulders, and a very tall head. Tentatively, Phobos spoke.

“...I’m sorry, could you repeat that?”

They perked up at this. “I just said hello! You’re- you live here, correct?”

Phobos pressed his lips together yes. While Phobos was from this planet, whoever he was talking to certainly was not, so it was overwhelmingly strange to hear his language come out of them. It must have been some sophisticated translator they were using, no one off planet ever bothered to learn his language.

They were waiting. For Phobos to respond with actual words, probably.

“Yes, but something happened- something _he_ did,” he pointed to Miooch, right beside this new person. “And now I think there isn’t… I’m the last one _from_ here.”

They didn’t seem to like that. The waltzed into the bunker, barely enough space for the two of them. They were muttering something in a different language, looking through the few supplies around them both. They crouched down by the trapdoor, picking up the map Phobos had dropped and left. They were still for a moment, Phobos couldn’t tell where they were looking, a visor obscuring the top half of their face.

“You don’t want to go back through here,” they said gravely, placing the map down over the trapdoor, their fingertips against it. “Not after what happened, and even if there’s anyone left, you’re not…”

“Do you know what happened?!” Phobos said, too quickly, too loud. His voice went high, trembling and tense.

They looked up at him, startled. “I have an educated guess about what’s happened, but I don’t know for sure, no.” The tension and excitement Phobos had built up was gone as soon as it came. His shoulders slumped, he looked away.

He was trying to pout, but it was hard to do with this busy-body rooting through everything in the bunker. They kept moving, opening things, putting some things back and tucking some between their elbow and waist.

“Are you looting?” Phobos accused. They stopped, like they finally realized what they were doing. “It’s not bad enough that I’m left here to die, you’ve got to steal everything I have left and speed it up?” He really hadn’t ever felt like this, felt his throat get tight, have the feeling of something in his eyes. “Or is it some sort of payment for the service of getting that _criminal_ away from me? While I appreciate that, he’s the one who called you here, so you really should be shaking him down for some pocket money.”

They looked out of the bunker, as if Miooch could understand what Phobos just said. He wasn’t even hanging around the entrance and was out of sight, if not earshot. They stood up and faced Phobos, and it hit him then that if this person came to pick up Miooch, they must have been on good terms. There was no way to know how strong they were, what they were capable of,  but it didn’t really matter; Phobos had lived a pampered life, keeping his body healthy enough while his mind was agile. He was reminded yet again that who he was and the life he had prior to this no longer mattered.

Phobos balled his hands into fists at his side, tried to brace his body but keep his face from looking scared. When he considered the likely possibility of dying in this bunker, he thought it would be to something like starvation, not a stranger murdering him for something he said to them.

“If I tell you what happened, will you come with us?”

Well. That wasn’t what Phobos expected. He just stared at them, not making any noise for a few seconds.

“You just told me you don’t know what happened.”

“I can find out.”

“How? And what makes you think I _want_ to go with you?”

They smiled and it felt like Phobos was hit with a refreshing breeze.

“My apologies, I completely forgot to introduce myself! I am Doctor Sung, a manly charismatic protector of fun that dabbles in time travel.” He was grinning now, hands moving in a flourish, making this as dramatic as possible in the limited space. “I don’t know if Meouch mentioned anything about it, but I have not just made my way here to pick him up- I came for you, too.”

Again, Phobos just stared in disbelief. Yeah, this guy was a time traveller. Sure. He started to smirk at the ridiculousness of it; that earnest declaration, his flair, how he just kept smiling up at Phobos, no doubt waiting for an enthusiastic yes. Doctor Sung was most definitely a liar, and he would have been a good one if his tales weren’t so outlandish.

Even if he was lying, what harm could it really do? He had a ship which meant Phobos wasn’t stuck. If Phobos only decided to go to the next planet, he would be fine there; he knew most of the political figures there, they knew him, he wouldn’t be stranded on a dead planet at least.

And even if by some miracle, Doctor Sung wasn’t lying, Phobos wouldn’t have to wonder his whole life what had happened. Although it was unlikely, what with Doctor Sung coming all this way to fetch him, Phobos still hoped that somehow he could just be placed back in the past to prevent this all from happening.

He started to press his lips together, almost agreed in his sudden excitement without knowing what exactly he would be agreeing to.

“You tell me what happened, written down, and I’ll get on that ship with you and- and him. You’ll take me to the nearest planet, and that’s the end of this exchange, okay?”

That earnest and charming smile changed to one with some bite in it, something a little cooler, a little meaner. Doctor Sung stepped backward, hung in the doorway, backlight casting an ominous shadow across his face. “Sorry High Lord Phobos, but that’s not the deal. I’ll tell you what you want and you become a member of my crew, or you can stay here.” He pushed the door open all the way with ease, not leaning his body weight into it like Phobos needed to. Phobos squinted at him, raised his hand to shade his eyes. He couldn’t see it, but he knew Doctor Sung was still smiling. “When you’re ready to go, bring that medical kit with you, and those books on surviving in the wild. And anything you think I might find interesting, too.”

Then he left, leaving Phobos with this weird calm. He had no reason to be calm, he was just told to go with someone he had just met to for who knows why, or to stay where he was to run out of resources and die. He had never told Doctor Sung his name, he realized, which should have thrown him into a panic with the implication of it, but he was as level headed as ever. Maybe that was some way of proving himself, that he had gone back or forward in time and learned Phobos’ name, the same way he’d learn what happened to Phobos’ home for leverage.

He didn’t know how much time he had, so he just started grabbing things. The med kit, all the reference books, even the recreational books to pass the time while locked inside. He gathered everything up, and turned to see if there was anything else worth bringing.

Rations.

He wavered for a second before taking them. Just in case.

He pushed the door open with his shoulder, squeezing out when there was just enough space. He squinted from the sunlight and turned back around to shade his face while he pulled his hood up.

Doctor Sung and _Meouch_ (apparently) were easy to find. The dirt on the surface was prime for clear tracks, with very little wind to disturb them. Phobos was thankful for living on the northern hemisphere. Or having had lived there.

They saw Phobos approaching from a distance, and Doctor Sung raised his arm in the air, waving it back and forth a few times before lowering it. Some kind of excitement bloomed inside Phobos, and he started to run.

He finally reached them; Doctor Sung jogged out a few yards to meet him, but Meouch stayed where he was, in the shadow of the doctor’s ship.

* * *

 

Things were… tense. It was intensified that they were all stuck on a ship together now, two of the three occupants trying to avoid one another, while trying to glean information from the third.

Phobos didn’t know what Meouch was asking Doctor Sung, and frankly he didn’t care. Every moment he saw the Doctor was alone, he sidled up next to him, grabbing the ship's walls to keep his balance. It was a small ship, not even a co-pilot's seat, just the single one for Doctor Sung.

“When are you going to tell me?” Phobos asked suddenly. He had stayed quiet for a minute at first.

“Once we dock. I don’t want you getting… emotional while we’re on this.”

Phobos squinted at that response; something about it didn’t sit well with him, but it was a little late to confront Doctor Sung about the situation now. He pouted for a bit before asking anything again.

“We’re not landing somewhere then? Is it-”

“Not technically, no. This,” Doctor Sung took his hand off the steering wheel and waved it around, gesturing to the room around him, “is just a compartment of a larger ship. While that’s parked somewhere, I do have to dock this onto it. Far easier than landing next to it and trying to go back up and on.”

Phobos pressed his lips together, a soft little pop. Then he nodded, trying to pick up the habit. He would’ve asked if they were heading to some sort of space station, but thankfully Doctor Sung loved to explain every little detail.

Phobos stayed quiet, watching debris and planets fly past them. He tried to glance at the control panel, see the map, but everything was labeled in symbols he didn’t understand. It frustrated him, especially how Meouch seemed to comprehend it all.

Speaking of, he heard the door of the cockpit slide open, and then shut a second after. His time with the doctor was up, apparently, Meouch waiting outside the door. Fine. He could use a nap, anyways.

He flung open the sliding door with a flourish, glancing at Meouch waiting. Meouch avoided looking at Phobos, let him pass by rather than pushing past him. He didn’t even shut the door all the way before he started talking to Doctor Sung- rapid and loud.

There was just that hallway gap, the cockpit, and a sort of sleeping area on the ship. The hallway looked like it opened up, probably to connect to the larger ship. The sleeping area was very compact; standing rest pods leaning back at an angle. Phobos had already claimed one for himself, the others hadn’t touched them. He saw Meouch sitting on the floor in there though. Doctor Sung had said it would be a short trip.

* * *

 

Phobos was abruptly rocked out of his rest, stomach rolling with the change of altitude. They were coming through the atmosphere, about to land. He waited for things to still a bit before stepping out of the pod, tottering over to the cockpit, hand not straying from the wall. The other two were in there, Meouch hanging over Doctor Sung’s shoulder, gripping the back of his seat. Quiet for once. Phobos mimicked the posture, grabbing the chair (carefully avoiding touching Meouch), and watching.

As tense as Phobos and Meouch were, Doctor Sung was completely calm, as if he had done this thousands of times before. Maybe he had. Maybe he was just good at faking it.

They came in lower and the planet was revealed. All blue and bright, green and lights where that blue ended. It was hard to tell, moving so fast, how many times they went around, if it was even following the same line or if Doctor Sung was swerving around, trying to show off as much of this planet as possible. He was as proud of it as if he somehow made it. Which was ridiculous, artificially made planets were much smaller.

As they slowed down, Phobos kept scanning the land, looking for it. Whatever this ship could have been. But he kept getting distracted. Not by the land, but by the things _on_ the land. Clusters of structures, above ground abodes. Shiny little pods moving all across the ground, metallic tubes going through the air. This wasn’t some desolate planet, it was crawling with life.

Just as Phobos took that in, Doctor Sung slowed down abruptly, the larger ship coming into view. It was mostly a flat disc shape, a little divot taken out of the middle- where they would dock, presumably.

There wasn’t quite a clunk as they connected, it was a soft thud of things clicking into place. A sudden quiet as the hum of this little ship shut down.

“It’ll take a couple minutes until we can get into the main ship, so just sit tight, okay?” Doctor Sung flashed a smile at Phobos before turning to Meouch and repeating what he just said in a different language.

This world, from what Phobos could see of it, was gorgeous. All lush and bright, with so much movement, so much light that he had to force his eyes to stay open. He kept staring at everything for a while after they could leave.

* * *

 

This was getting ridiculous.

It had been a few days of Phobos trying to track down Doctor Sung and find out what happened on his home. But he was always busy, always in the middle of the things, always giving excuses and that he’d tell Phobos soon, just after he did this one last thing. It didn’t help that Doctor Sung was now being escorted around by what Phobos could only assume was his bodyguard; the doctor had introduced him as Havve Hogan, his friend, as soon as they got onto the main ship, but Phobos wasn’t stupid.

Havve Hogan was huge, silent, and recently kept within arm's reach of the doctor. Frankly, he scared the absolute piss out of Phobos. He had tried to talk to Doctor Sung, wheedling, but was met with the unblinking stare of Havve Hogan. He turned to the doctor, and Phobos skittered away before something could happen.

He was running out of options, and he had this sinking feeling he was running out of time. Nobody spoke any languages he knew, at least not about important things, but since he was largely confined to the ship, he had a lot of time to look around and find things.

It looked like things were shaping up for them to take off. Phobos wasn’t certain what had happened, but this wasn’t Doctor Sung’s choice landing spot.

He changed tactics; if Doctor Sung was going to stay quiet, he’d hear it right from the lion’s mouth.

* * *

 

Meouch was much easier to track down, even though he too was avoiding Phobos. All Phobos really had to do was stand in the doorway of where he had found Meouch- some kind of storage room for tools and parts- and he came lurching over, translator already out in his hand, staring at the ground.

Meouch had apparently already written out a message, and just handed the translator over to Phobos.

_What do you want?_

It was hard to tell if it was terse or not. Phobos looked up, not sure if it would be working like before, if he could just talk. Meouch nodded slowly, peered at the screen and tapped something on it, changing an indicator. He nodded again.

“Doctor Sung has been avoiding me, and I only agreed to come if he would tell me what happened to my home. You’re the only other one that would have any idea what happened, so you’re going to tell me.” The hand that wasn’t holding the translator, he kept clenched in a fist.

The translator chugged along, and they both waited in silence. It was awfully bossy what Phobos had said, and there was no reason for Meouch to listen to his request. He seemed different now, however- the few days after docking had let them both calm down some, and while that gave Phobos this kind of assertiveness he had never really had, Meouch seemed timid, scared of something. Like he knew something Phobos didn’t.

Meouch read the message, and twisted his face up into a grimace. He looked to Phobos, back to the screen. Meouch looked away, opened his mouth, didn’t make a noise and shut it again. Finally, he said something in response, something slow and unsure, but still a short message.

_You should really just wait for the doctor to tell you._

“No!” Phobos chirped. “I’m tired of waiting! You are going to tell me right now!” He had no idea if he was going too fast for the translator, but he was too infuriated to care. But from the way Meouch was looking from the screen and back up, it had just caught it.

Meouch was burbling something in response, a hand up and palm out. Again it was something short, not what Phobos was asking for.

“You’re going to tell me!” Phobos demanded, grabbing the front of Meouch’s shirt. He pushed Meouch backwards, still yelling while Meouch’s face went from bewildered to cross. “Tell me what you did! This is your fault, and you’re going to tell me what happened!” Meouch was grabbing at his arms, trying to pull his hands off of him, saying something. But Phobos kept his grip tight, kept pushing, kept yelling the same thing over and over.

The translator clattered to the floor as Meouch went for a more direct method, pushing Phobos’ head away, claws pressed threateningly to his skin. As angry as he looked, he was still just trying to get Phobos away from him.

It was clear to Phobos that he was overpowered here; his arms were fully extended, he didn’t have the strength or momentum to move Meouch, and his opponent had claws, for chrissake. Meouch’s hand on his head forced an eye shut, a bitter tear leaking out. He had pulled one of Phobos’ hands off of him, his grip making Phobos open his hand. Meouch’s teeth were bared, he was yelling something now, and he gave Phobos a hard shove, separating them, Phobos tumbling to the ground.

Meouch scoffed, muttering something as he walked past Phobos to the doorway.

Phobos scrambled over, grabbed Meouch by the ankle, and yanked his leg back, making him fall forward in a perfect arch. He crawled to Meouch’s head, he was already pushing himself up, and shoved Meouch’s shoulder over and back down, leaning as much of his weight into it as he could.

“Tell me,” Phobos demanded again. Meouch just stared at him, brow furrowed, at the end of his patience. “Tell me!” Phobos shrieked, leaning forward and raising an arm, hand balled into a fist.

He swung his fist down only for Meouch to catch it and twist his hand to the side, pushing him off. Phobos grabbed onto Meouch’s clothes again, felt his fingers scrape against the flesh under it. All he could really do now was twist around, kicking Meouch in the knees.

It was like a cranky child throwing a tantrum, crying and screaming.

Doctor Sung was behind Phobos, reaching over him and delatching him from Meouch. Havve Hogan stepped over their legs to get near Meouch, helped him up. Phobos was hoisted up by his armpits, set down and Doctor Sung instantly in front of him, one hand gripping him by the upper arm, the other gently touching his head where Meouch had grabbed him.

Phobos could see Meouch and Havve Hogan walking down the hall, Meouch in front, the doctor’s bodyguard acting as a barrier.

Doctor Sung was saying something. He stopped, grabbed Phobos’ hand and pushed up his sleeve, checking his wrist, and started talking again in a language Phobos understood.

“You’re not hurt, so that’s good, but he really could’ve fucked you up. What were you thinking?” It wasn’t an accusatory tone, but not concerned, either. Doctor Sung wasn’t upset, not really. He just seemed curious.

After his tantrum, Phobos was more keen to pout than answer any questions. He clenched his jaw and turned his head, pulling his hand away.

Doctor Sung made an almost sympathetic sound and turned it into a sigh. “Fine. Stupid question, I guess.” He paused, expecting a reaction. Phobos was still more intent on pouting. “It’s… I’m sorry. I didn’t want to tell you what happened, and I’ve been avoiding you. Havve’s been on my back about it, you’ve seen! He almost wrangled me the other day, but once he grabbed me you ran off!” He was getting excited, caught up in the story, hands everywhere, body swaying. He stopped. Straightened his posture, and grabbed Phobos by the shoulders.

“I’m going to tell you everything that happened. Right now. Okay?”

* * *

 

Phobos was on the floor again. Back to the wall, legs folded up and arms crossed on top of his knees. He was just whimpering into the space between his chest and thighs, hiccuping occasionally. Sung was kneeling beside him, hand on Phobos’ shoulder, squeezing and rubbing it. He was staying quiet for now, letting Phobos process it before he hit him with another offer.

They sat like that for a long time, Phobos slowly readjusting, stretching his legs out, leaning against Sung, and then curling up again. When he went to wipe his face off on his sleeves, Sung produced this plastic sac from his thigh pouch, pulling thin fabric squares from it, wiping Phobos’ tears away, making him blow his nose.

Sung didn’t tell Phobos anything he didn’t already know, he just added more specifcs to what Phobos knew, gave names, gave times. He emphasized that Meouch had absolutely no idea what would happen, and was completely devastated when he learned what happened.

Meouch was smuggling funk, and he wasn’t even supposed to be on Phobos’ planet. Everyone in that solar system knew how hazardous funk was to the people of that planet, especially with their habitats. His ship was having technical problems and he was forced to land, but funk is volatile, and is only ‘good’ for so long before it starts to react, which is when it gets dangerous. Meouch was largely in the wrong place at the wrong time, his shipment parked over integral structures, ensuing chaos underground along with funk poisoning.

Most things had collapsed. The planet itself wasn’t safe, which was part of why Sung pushed Phobos to leave with him.

It was hard to grapple with. Everyone Phobos had ever known or cared about, gone because of random happenstance. Because of an accident, a check engine light.

He leaned against Sung, their shoulders pressed together. Phobos’ hands were loosely folded in his lap, his fingers rubbing together. There was no changing this.

Sung pushed against Phobos for a moment, nudging him. “I can make it easier for you, you know.” Phobos looked at him, scrunched up his face, waited for Sung to continue. “I can alter your memories. Not make it so you think this never happened, just… edit it a little. That Meouch was always with me, that it was a natural disaster, that you got to say goodbye.” He was smiling, soft and reassuring, a faint light coming from behind his visor.

Phobos’ mouth fell open and he looked down at his hands. That was certainly an offer. It would be a lie, but a comforting lie. Again, Sung kept quiet, let Phobos work his way through it.

Phobos shook his head.

“No?” Sung asked. “You- you’re fine with knowing how everything transpired? It’s okay?”

Slowly, Phobos nodded. He opened his mouth, started to say something, then shut it. It didn’t feel fair for him to be the only one left speaking that language. After what Sung had just told him, Phobos didn’t quite trust that Sung was actually speaking it- it was some manipulation of his thoughts or some translator not from this time, and definitely not him actually speaking it, no matter what it looked like.

Sung stared at him for a moment, then nodded as well. He clapped his hands on his thighs and then stood up.

“Well! Okay! If you need me for anything, I’ll be running between the engine room and the cockpit. We’ve got times to get to and places to be.” He strode off confidently, leaving Phobos as he was in his silence.

**Author's Note:**

> HOO DAISY that was a downer there wasn't it. i have uh tentative plans about uh this 'setting' but dont hold me to that. hopefully the next thing will be very fluffy grocery store escapades. GOD i want that done.


End file.
